


The Woman who spars like a Man

by orphan_account



Series: Arrow Adventures [4]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: BAMF Laurel Lance, Background Relationships, Banter, Emotionally compromised Oliver Queen, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Male-Female Friendship, Mostly friendship, Past Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen, Smug/knowing Thea Queen, Sparring, Team Arrow, Team Bonding, arrow season 4, heavy focus on the sparring, post Felicity's injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 21:16:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6130336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurel and Oliver have been breaking apart and patching up their friendship for the better part of 4 years. They're finally in a place to lean on each other when they need it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Woman who spars like a Man

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in the time period after Felicity's injury and before her 'miraculous' cure. I haven't actually watched any episode past the winter finale, so this is all second hand knowledge. As such there may be some continuity handwavey stuff going on.
> 
> Also, you don't need to have read any of the others in the series. They're all stand alone and in no particular order. 
> 
> Enjoy!

"Do you have some time this morning?"

Laurel blinked, rechecking the caller I.D. on her cell.

"Oliver? It's 8am. We only finished patrol at 6. I've only slept for 2 hours."

She listened to him curse, something banging in the background. "Sorry, I didn't realize it was still that early."

Laurel sat up, rubbing the sleep from her face. "What's wrong?"

He didn't answer.

Her concern mounted, waking her in a way no alarm or phone call could.

"Oliver? Ollie?"

After a beat of silence he answered, "Just… things are tense here. Felicity is still adjusting to being home, and I'm just getting in the way. I know it's early but do you have time to spar before work? Like when we were kids?"

The request made her blink, it wasn't often Oliver brought up the days before the yacht. Before the Island.

Days where they sparred after school. Back then Oliver wouldn't wake up early for anything, so before school was out. They'd tried to prove whose trainers were better. The Queen family's private tutors, or the off duty cops and self-defense instructors who had tutored Laurel since she could walk.

Oliver might have had the better qualified trainers, but he'd been lazy.

"I can be there in ten minutes," she told him as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She took a moment to point her toes, relishing the stretch and burn in her calves.

Calls like this were becoming more and more common since Felicity's injury. Since her life, and by extensions his, changed forever. They were both going through an adjustment period, and while Felicity pushed herself to act like everything was normal Oliver could only fake it. He faked it for her, to be there for her, and beat out his frustration on the equiptment and on Laurel or Diggle. Whoever was free to train with him. 

Usually when he called they would get coffee during their lunch breaks. They'd talk about anything other than Arrow related stuff and Felicity's injury. Sometimes they'd just sit in silence. Or, as was increasingly more common: work out together.

The most they'd done so far was hold the pads for each other as they practiced boxing. Or compete over who could get up the salmon ladder fastest.

Even after all these years, their competitiveness still reared its head in their interactions.

If he was actually suggesting they full on spar… something they had mutually agreed not to do yet? Well, faking it till he made it wasn't working anymore.

'Thank you, Laurel."

"Anytime."

She hung up the phone and grabbed her gym clothes, she'd laid out them out night before. She had planned to go workout with a punching bag but this option was.

* * *

When she arrived at the lair she wasn't surprised to see that Oliver had beaten her there.

He was already warming up on the punching bag, laying into it with a power that always made her pause and take notice.

And damn, did he have a lot of energy to burn through.

Laurel let her gym bag drop to the ground with an audible thud.

He paused mid punch, leaning against the bag. He pressed his forehead to it, not looking in her direction. Once he'd had a second to catch his breath she made her move.

She shook the cup in her hand, the sound of the ice clinking against the plastic gaining his attention.

"Is that…?"

"A raspberry white chocolate iced mocha with extra whip cream?" She tilted her head, eyes twinkling at him. "Why, yes. Yes it is."

He finally moved away from the punching bag, unwinding the bandages on his fists as he slunk her. He tucked the bandages into the waistband of his sweatpants. Laurel's eyes tracked the movement.

"I thought you might need it." She continued, holding it out.

Oliver felt a rush of affection for his old friend. Her thoughtfulness was the first snowfall in winter, full of promise and beauty but possessing a lingering chill.

He took it from her, fingers brushing against hers.

She pulled her hand back, cradling it to her chest.

He downed half the cherished drink in one go and she watched as his eyes brightened and he became just a bit more alive. A bit more alert, a bit more human.

Just as she'd known he would.

"How'd you know?"

She shook her head, unable to fight back a fond smile. "You called me at the crack of dawn, to spar. So yeah, I thought you might need the girly drink you're too chicken to buy yourself."

"I was in high school, pretty bird. Having a fragile ego was the norm."

Laurel stilled, looking at him with no little shock.

"You haven't called me that...in ages." She breathed, clasping her hands together in front of her. As if that would keep him from seeing the way they shook.

He stared at her hands, fighting back the urge to reach out and still them. In the end he looked down at his coffee, shrugging.

"I know, but it suits you more now than ever. Don't you think?"

Flustered, Laurel looked away.

"So you want to spar?"

He let her change the subject, nodding. "I need to work off some steam, and…well."

"Recoup your pride from the last time we full on sparred?" she parried, her smile turning from sheepish to teasing.

He finished the rest of his drink, setting it on the floor. He re-wrapped his hands, aware that her eyes followed the movement. Once done he crossed his arms and glowered down at her.

She didn't flinch, had never flinched away from him.

"We were just kids then."

Tossing her hair over her shoulder she strode past him to the mats, knocking their shoulders together on the way.

"Put your money where your mouth is Queen."

He looked at her, taking in the iron in her stance and the fire in her gaze. And threw his head back and laughed in delight. The first genuine laugh since Felicity's surgery and diagnosis.

"Let's do this pretty bird." This time the use of her old nickname was calculated, and as she blinked he rushed her.

He tackled her middle, lifting her off the ground and propelling them back two feet.

She got over her surprise quicker than he planned, ramming her knee into the soft part of his stomach.

He released her, stumbling back to catch his breath.

She smirked, "That all you got robin hood?"

He growled.

She dodged his first swing, turning to the side and letting it slide past.

They continued in that fashion. Him throwing punches, kicks, trying to tackle her, and her dancing out of his reach each time.

If he could get a grip on her they both knew it was over, his body mass and strength would win out. If Laurel wanted to win she needed to draw this out into an endurance match. Wait for him to show a weakness, and then dart in and go for the jugular.

With that in mind, he opened his mouth and began to provoke her.

"I spent five years on an Island, and four years fighting in the streets of this city. I'm not the soft-bellied teenager you used to throw around. And you won't ever again."

She hissed between her teeth, going on the offensive and throwing her first punch at him.

He caught it, using his grip to pull her in close.

For a moment they both froze in place, chest heaving with exertion. Their breaths mingled and he startled when she grinned up at him. "I'm not the same girl I was when you came back either."

She rested her forehead against his and he froze. Wary, and rightfully so.

"I was out of shape, I wasn't keeping up with my training. But now? Well, I'm in better shape than I was when I used to kick your ass on the daily."

Before he could process that, she drew her head back and slammed their foreheads together with punishing force.

He staggered back, dropping her arm.

She hooked a leg around his ankle, pulling him further off center.

Grabbing his shoulder she threw him over her hip, sending him flying back into the wall behind them.

He hit the wall and the row of weights beside him with an explosive force. The force of the hit sent the immaculately arranged weights spilling to the floor.

Thea was going to kill him, he thought abstractedly. She'd just ordered those and organized them the way she liked.

But he couldn't do anything but lay there stunned, trying to catch the breath she'd just knocked out of him.

Laurel prowled towards him with all the preternatural grace of a predator. He'd once thought her unnatural grace was a product of her gymnastic days as a kid, now he knew better.

It was part natural, part drilled into her over the years.

She crouched before him, "You shouldn't underestimate me Ollie. I've been trained to take advantage."

For a moment she glared at him, and he blinked at her. Dumbfounded, but impressed.

Then she cracked, smiling at him. Her pride and triumph lit up her face, stealing the breath from his lungs all over again

"Feel better?" she asked.

He took stock and was surprised at the answer. "Actually, yes."

She'd just kicked his ass, sassing him the entire way, he should feel angry. Indignant. But instead he was in awe of the woman in front of him, this woman who always seemed to rise from the mat stronger.

Who refused to give up on him.

In truth, it was their mutual stubbornness that had saved their friendship. After all their history any sane person would have cut their losses and moved on long ago.

But neither he nor Laurel had ever claimed to be sane. They'd both been unwilling to write off their oldest friend.

Their stubbornness had finally borne fruit this last year as they re-learned how to be friends. Good friends, who were there for each other in more than just name.

And for whatever reason this sparring match, this return to old habits (both the act and him getting his ass handed to him) cemented that recovered friendship.

It was… reassuring. That they could go through so much and come out the other side more or less better for it.

It gave him hope that he and Felicity could weather the storm of her disability. And with any luck, without almost a decade of silence and anger.

"Ollie?" Laurel was asking, concerned about his long silence.

He looked up to see her offering her hand to him. "Best 2 out of 3?"

"Hell yes."

* * *

Oliver won the next match, and and she took the third. But once again their competitive streak showed and soon they were going for 4 out of 5.

At the rate they were going they would never have a clear winner. By match 4 the score was 2-2 and they were both beginning to feel the strain.

Laurel was just about to suggest a break - because Lord knows Oliver's pride wouldn't let him be the one to do it - when the elevator dinged.

The pair looked up to see Thea striding towards them.

She stopped at the edge of the mat, hands on her hips. "So this is where you two are, playing hooky?"

Laurel and Oliver exchanged a look of growing realization.

"What time is it?" Laurel asked for them both.

"Almost 11. You're both supposed to be at Felicity's charity event for the disabled in an hour. The one she's been talking about all week? She specifically asked for you both to be there."

Oliver cursed, long and colorful. Both women stared at him, having never heard some of the words he just used. Which was understandable since he'd spoken in a mix of English, Russian, and Arabic. 

"That's today?" he asked rhetorically.

Clearly he and Laurel had gotten carried away, and hadn't kept track of time.

Laurel smiled, trying to make light of it. "Well, it's good we keep several emergency changes of clothes here in the lair. We both have something appropriate to wear."

Oliver relaxed some and Thea smirked, "So no one else will know you almost missed it. But Felicity…"

They winced. She would know, she always knew.

"Flowers?" Oliver asked.

Thea and Laurel grinned, "And chocolate," they chimed.

He groaned.

Thea clapped her hands together. "Chop, chop. Go get ready."

Oliver sighed, grabbing a water bottle form the sidelines. After draining half of it he passed it to Laurel who took it eagerly.

Only after she finished what was left did he pass her to head towards the lockers. He caught her sweaty hand on the way, giving it a grateful squeeze.

"Thank you."

She nodded, serious. Before, "For kicking your ass? Anytime."

"We tied!" he called over his shoulder even as he heard Thea crow.

He was never going to live this down.

**Author's Note:**

> Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know! And if you're feeling really generous, tell me why.
> 
> P.S. I wasn't actually planning on posting this for awhile yet, because I usually like to wait till I'm completely finished with the story (I am close). But with those spoiler pictures being posted about the grave... I needed to add something positive to the LL archive. Also I apologize for the lack of Felicity, I haven't watched the episodes right after her injury yet and I didn't want to portray her reaction to it without watching them. Maybe if i continue this... 
> 
> And if things keep going the way they are...expect more b/c i have several massive AUs that I was slowly working my way through that I might just decide to post to keep my mind off the grave debacle...
> 
> Edited: 3/7/16


End file.
